


Sherlock Holmes Is Dead

by MosImagination



Category: Jamie Marks is Dead (2014), One for Sorrow - Christopher Barzak, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Being Lost, Bullying, Depression, F/M, Ghost Sex, Ghosts, John Plays Rugby, M/M, Molly Hooper Appreciation, One Night Stands, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Suicide, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 04:36:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3882544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MosImagination/pseuds/MosImagination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boy they called a freak in high school disappears, only for his body to be found by Molly hooper. Sherlock Holmes was a nerdy boy, bullied for being the way he is. John doesn't mind him, but then again, they're not friends. </p><p>{This fan fiction is based off of the book One for sorrow by Christopher Barzak}<br/>I add my own parts but the story is slightly the same. I hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock Holmes Is Dead

There was this kid I used to know who always sat in class and stared towards the board with sad but interested eyes. His eyes spoke his emotions, like he wasn't happy, as if something at home was eating through him. 

His name was Sherlock Holmes. But everyone called him freak. 

I don't exactly know why he got that nickname, maybe it was because he excelled in classes. He enjoyed school, but not really when other boys used it on him. It wasn't a good nickname. As we entered into eleventh and twelfth grades, boys would shout in the halls, "hey freak Holmes! Freak!" But he wouldn't stare towards them. He'd pretend their words hadn't slammed into him. This would anger the boys more, they slam him into the metal lockers and whisper into his ears, "learn to speak freak!" But he was too proud..or hurt..to reply.

When we were freshman we would sit in biology together, I wasn't good but he was amazing. He'd pause and help me at anytime, softly telling me what to do. His voice was sweet, I wish I could have been friends with him..

The summer I turned 15 I was put on the rugby team, my family was proud but mostly my mother was.she would tell me how weak I was when I was first put into the world and how she thought I'd never make it more than a day, I had proved her wrong. 

We lived in a small grey house in our even smaller town. It was just my mom, my dad, my sister, and I. Harry or Harriet was three years older then me. She didn't take school seriously, and when I entered high school the test hers called me Harry. I'd gently correct them and they'd glare, muttering "you better pass my class Watson.."  
When I showed them how serious I was, they'd praise me, telling me I would go somewhere in life. But where would I go. My mom had gone no where, getting stuck with my drunken father after becoming pregnant with Harry. Her life had been thrown away. As would mine. 

My grandma and grandpa had died when I was still fourteen. My grandpa had been the first to go, heart cancer eating him away and killing him. My grandma died a month after of heart break. My grandpa had been her world and when her world was gone, so was she. I missed her, she would tell me stories of my mother when she was young. How my mother would find hurt birds and bring them home to heal them. I wish I Would have instead of her. 

One day after rugby practice I was walking home, passing by the Holmes house. Mr. And mrs. Holmes were said to rarely ever be home. Sherlock only having his brother to care for him. Was it hard not having your mother Constantly close, it would have been for me. Sherlock hadn't been at school for a few days. I had missed him in biology class. I paused in front of his house, gazing inti the living room window to try to see him. Was he okay? Alive? Would he ever come back?

Then I saw him, slowly walking out of his house and towards the mail slot. He wore a suit, his usual attire for school. I watched him then smiled,waving to him. He looked up and slowly waved back. I was about to turn and leave when he said, "looking good Watson!" I looked back towards him, he was blushing, sticking his hand into the slot. "I like your suits.." I whispered. He looked up from his hand full of mail, "you like it..I would have thought you would have hated it like the other boys." 

I frowned, "so you going to homecoming?" "No..that's for cheerleaders and jocks.." He hissed then froze, "I didn't mean you.." I bit my lip, "it's okay.." He looked at the mail carefully, "I have to go..my brother says he taking me somewhere..goodbye." He was gone, but stopped at the door, "call me.." 

His seat was empty for the next two days, the town started searching for him. I joined in, hoping he was safe. But two weeks later, Molly hooper found his body. 

It was on the day that Molly hooper found Sherlock Holmes' body that the horrible things started happening to our small family. I had seen the world like my grandma, an endless place of imagination and whole ness. I knew that spirits could surround us, my grandma had warned me, "they are nice seeming but are always jealous of the living."

My parents are fighting like everyday my dad would drown himself in his drinking, my brother and I ignored it best we could, pretending it wasn't there. ,y mother this time, had broke, she ran outside and got into the car, pulling away. While my mother was driving she got into a head-on collision with a drunk woman named Irene. Irene's car crushed into my mothers, my mom rolling three times into a ditch. Irene called 911. This was the second amount of darkness to fill our home.

Molly hooper had been walking around under the bridge of our town, looking at the rocks that gathered, hoping to find something new for her collection. She continued walking until she found two dead grey eyes staring up at her, they had belonged to Sherlock. She had screamed in sheer horror while my mother screamed out her last breath. Irene screamed too, coming up to the car and begging for my mother to not be dead.

She was. I lost my mother, and Sherlock Holmes. 

Under the leaves, dirt, and rocks Sherlock Holmes slipped from his body. Molly had found him, and being found gave him new life. A new life I'd be dragged into.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this fan fiction! Please comment and tell me what you thought!


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